


Ken Doll

by Tarlan



Category: Boston Legal
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-26
Updated: 2009-05-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 22:33:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crane, Shore and Chase had a nice ring to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ken Doll

**Author's Note:**

> Written for smallfandomfest FEST05 and smallfandomflsh #26. Confession  
> Also for: MMOM2009 Challenge - Day 26

The wedding in Nimmo Bay had been perfect. Shirley had looked radiant as the only bride in a double wedding and, well, Denny had looked handsome too; he and Alan had even danced together eventually though they had saved that until they were back on their favorite balcony.

On his first day back in court after the wedding, Alan endured the usual unpleasantries exchanged between opposing counsel with a subtle mixture of grace and sarcasm that many believed to be his trademark. Despite snide comments from Denise, his opposing counsel on this particular case, he was still Alan Shore; though he had been tempted to change his name to Alan Shore-Crane just to ruffle a few more feathers.

He knew his days in Crane, Poole and Schmidt were numbered, but that was by his own choice rather than forced upon him by their new overlords, the Chinese. Paul knew of his intention to start a law firm, one that would take on the cases of the poor and uneducated, giving them the justice that was often denied to them due to their lack of financial backing. He would take on a few rich clients too, to help pay the bills, rather than rely solely of Denny's vast wealth, but mostly, he would take on the drug companies, the oil companies, and the legislators who made rules for the majority at the expense of a law abiding minority.

When Judge Anheim slapped down his gavel, dismissing Denise's case as unconstitutional, Alan smiled politely at a totally baffled Denise and gathered up his papers, accepting the handshake from his client with good grace. He couldn't resist ogling her pert ass as he followed her along the aisle towards the courtroom exit; smiling widely as she threw an irritated glare over her shoulder, as if she knew exactly what thoughts were going through his head. Of course, she would be wrong because his days of lusting after her were long gone. What she reminded him of was her handsome Ken Doll husband, Brad Chase.

"Are you checking out my ass?" Her tone was almost shrill and Alan raised his eyebrows questioningly, changing the subject to the one that interested him more.

"How's Brad these days? Still sitting in that big office... bored?"

Her eyebrows knitted together. "Brad is..." She smiled without humor. "Brad is none of your business."

"Hmm... if we hadn't already had this conversation, I'd suspect troubles in matrimonial land."

Denise scowled before flouncing away, leaving Alan speculating on whether this was just another court room ploy played a little too late in the day to affect the outcome of the case, or if he'd hit on the truth this time. Perhaps their marriage was on the rocks after all. Still, Alan wasn't really concerned about that. He was more interested in persuading Brad to become a founding partner in Crane, Shore and Chase.

Hours later, with the late afternoon sun casting shadowed stripes across the fake mahogany desk, Alan smiled at the conflicted look on Brad's face. He'd always managed to get that particular expression from his former colleague, formed from a mix of despair, resignation, bemusement and intrigue, perhaps with a dash of pleasure too because he knew Brad had always enjoyed their confrontations despite appearances to the contrary. Alan closed the door behind him, and locked it, adding to Brad's bemusement but Alan wanted no one to interrupt this particular meeting.

Slowly, he loosened his tie, then took off his jacket, hanging it over the back of a conveniently placed chair. He reached for the button and zipper of his suit pants, all the while watching as Brad's laser blue eyes grew wider and wider until Brad blurted out, "I'm not gay!"

"Neither am I."

"You're married to Denny Crane," Brad sneered, but his eyes never rose above Alan's waist.

"And you're married to Denise... and we all know who wears the pants in that household."

By now, Alan had opened his pants and was rubbing himself through the silk boxers he'd worn especially for this meeting. He knew the silk had darkened with a slick of precome, and he enjoyed the way Brad licked his lips unconsciously, mesmerized by Alan's rhythmic hand movements and the erection now straining against the thin silk. The growing hunger in Brad's eyes didn't surprise him in the least as Alan had done his homework years ago. He knew all about Brad's same gender trysts in college, his circle jerks beneath the bleachers and that one blow job.

His smile widened as Brad tried to disguise the adjustment to his own pants, noting the way Brad's hand drifted out of view beneath the table top. The thought of Brad touching himself gave Alan an unexpected jolt of lust. Despite an urge to let his head fall back, Alan kept his eyes open and focused on Brad as he drew a clean, silk handkerchief out of one pocket and his hard, heavy cock out of his boxers.

Unable to resist, Brad was obviously on the same wavelength now, eyes losing focus as he slowly brought himself to a climax, hand movements synchronized; the knowledge was the tipping point, heat coiling in Alan's belly and groin. He caught his release in the silk handkerchief as Brad groaned out his own climax, out of view but the flush on Brad's face and the fevered brightness of his eyes revealed it all as if they were standing stark naked in front of each other.

Brad groaned again and slumped over the table, forehead bumping the hard surface. "Why?"

"A taste of more to...come, if you join Crane, Shore... and Chase," Alan murmured, voice only slightly steadier than his legs, which were threatening to fold up beneath him in post-coital lethargy.

"I'm not gay," Brad repeated softly but Alan could tell Brad wasn't quite so convinced of anything anymore.

"Neither am I," Alan confessed, but as he inhaled the heavy scent of male sex permeating the room, he knew it wouldn't be too much of a hardship changing the preferences of a lifetime if he had his very own living Ken Doll sharing his bed.

END


End file.
